When You Wake
by Jasper winked
Summary: "The island where dreams come true—would you like to go with me, Rose Tyler?" But what will the Doctor and Rose do when it's not only dreams that they awaken to, but their nightmares? Sleep tight; don't let the bedbugs bite... 10/Rose
1. Prologue: Trapped

**A/N: Ahhh! So it's not a one-shot! Just the prologue to a plot I can't get out of my head. :D It's short, and I will try more later on, but right now this is it. Procrastinating my homework even more, but what can I say? **

**Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN DOCTOR WHO. Capitals and all that jazz. **

When You Wake

_**Prologue**_

_She looked around their room, crowded with all the mindless junk they had gathered from their first day here. Her trainers, untied in a corner, and his overcoat strewn over one end of a chair._

_She remembered sitting in that chair, stiff and uncomfortable, staring into the mirror across from her._

_Getting up, she could feel her bare feet sinking into the soft carpet as she walked towards it. Her reflection was the same as ever—blond hair perhaps a bit messy, mascara dried from when she had forgotten to take it off last night._

_They had just been having so much fun…_

_Rose remembered his vibrant grin, flashing towards her as he talked. When had that been?_

_His coat was still here—perhaps he had wanted a little breakfast before waking her up. _

_As she touched the mirror, fingers finding the cool glass somewhat jolting from her warm bed, she saw in the reflection, the door open, the electronic key card withdrawing from the slot with a muted click._

_A smile laced her face as she saw his familiar face, intense brown eyes, in the mirror. _

"_Doctor," she said, turning around. "I was thinking—"_

_There was no one there. The door was closed—hadn't it always been? But she had clearly seen him opening it._

_She turned around to face the mirror, and tried to muffle the scream, eyes blinking rapidly, wondering if she could wish this away. There the Doctor was—in the mirror. He had opened the door, and was walking into the room—their room. _

_Again, Rose turned around. He wasn't there._

"_Doctor," she shouted, hands shoving the smooth glass. "Doctor, Doctor—"_

_That settled it. This was a dream. Now all she had to do was wake up. _

_Taking a deep breath, Rose pinched her arm as hard as she could._

_And she— _

**A/N: So my first not-a-one-shot Doctor Who story! This was just the prologue, and I'm afraid it's more than a bit short, but reviews and comments would definitely be appreciated. **

**Tell me what you think, please. ;) **


	2. The Arrival

**A/N: Yes, I finally posted… **

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who = not owned by me in any way. Satisfied, lawyers? **

_**Chapter One**_

The Doctor eyed the bundle of blankets in front of him. Somewhere in there, he was sure, was a very sleepy pink-and-yellow companion.

"Rose," he murmured, lightly shaking her form through the blankets.

He heard a low moan, coupled with something he could almost make out to be a death threat, and decided that the cold water could wait another day.

"Rose!" he yelled, an idea to jump on the bed forming, when her hand shot out from the covers and he tumbled onto it instead, converse and legs pulled out beneath him.

Her head peaked out from the top of the bedspread, her hazel eyes glaring at him.

He grinned. "Up then?"

"What time is it?" she answered groggily, still managing to fuse anger into her voice.

_An impressive feat_, the Doctor mused. "Time machine, Rose; time machine. It's any time you want!"

Groaning, she glanced over at the clock. "Then why on Earth did you wake me up at 6:30 AM?"

"It's boring without you…"

Deciding she would have been charmed had the bloody alien _not_ woken her up at 6:30, she just continued with the glare.

"I was thinking while," continued the Doctor, ignoring it, "that maybe we would go to Felspoon, but nah, doesn't feel like a very good day for Felspoon, is it? But how do you feel about the island where dreams come true?"

"Island?"

_That got her attention. _He grinned widely at her. "Island."

"What kind of island?" she asked suspiciously.

"'What kind of island', you say!" the Doctor muttered indignantly. "The island where dreams come true—_weell_…"

"Spit it out."

"It's a good island," he was quick to respond. "Doesn't have a real name—has always been 'the island where dreams come true' since anyone can remember. I don't think the name holds any meaning…"

"And?"

"I've never been there."

"So?" she was surprised—a place he hadn't gone… how could she not be curious?

"I don't quite know what kind of island it is, then."

She let out a snort. "The Doctor doesn't know!"

"Hey!" he said, insulted, until she slipped him a small smile.

He flopped half-heartedly on her pillows. She groaned and tried tugging them out from under his head.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he stared at her, now triumphantly pulling the pillows back to her side of the bed.

She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. It gave her… an almost rakish quality, the Doctor thought.

Blankets tangled around him, he looked silly, Rose reflected. But they were her blankets, and she was the one here with him, and that meant that silly was more than fine.

They didn't move. And slowly, he spoke.

"The island of dreams—would you like to go with me, Rose Tyler?"

And just as slowly, matching grins—almost Cheshire-like—spread across their faces.

"Do you even have to ask?"

He didn't answer, only once he had untangled the covers and gotten up, said with certain relish, "Up then?"

The Doctor didn't even have to wait for the pillow to hit him square in the face.

* * *

The first glance of the island reassured them that there were no rioting crowds or evil aliens taking over.

In fact, everything was calm—orderly, even.

They were on the edge of what looked like a medium sized beach town. Brightly colored houses were lined neatly in rows, with taller buildings scattered in the mix.

The scene looked normal—but Rose was sure that wasn't the right word for it. No, the right word was _improved_.

It looked like the future. Beach town, yes, but the buildings were sturdy yet charming to look at. People walked around in light summer clothes, a lot of them holding what looked like a type of evanesced cell phone.

_Permanent residents or travelers like us?_ She wondered.

The Doctor opened the door, leaned outwards, mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Carrots," and closed the door.

After a minute, he walked out, locking the TARDIS door. "We're here."

"S'pose so," she said, glancing at him with a smile.

"31st century, spot on," the Doctor informed her. "They're going through a bit of a phase—everything is has been made to look like the 21st century—the height of style."

"Oh?"

"We fit right in," he said, grinning at her.

She looked at him, his long overcoat, pinstriped suit, and her own normal clothes. But despite how they looked, they _were_ different. Time travelers, people who went around saving worlds.

"Nah," she told him. "We'll always stand out."

Grinning, he offered Rose his arm. "Shall we, then?"

* * *

"A hotel!"

"A hotel?"

"A hotel."

"A hotel?"

She frowned at him, and the Doctor stopped, laughing at her as he did.

"What's so important about that hotel?"

She looked at him, gaze wheedling. "We haven't seen much of the island… we could stay at the hotel for a couple days, like a mini-vacation of sorts."

"I'm—" he started.

"And we could skip visiting my mum for a bit."

A mention of Jackie, and suddenly the Doctor thought he'd much rather stay where they were.

It was an island, a nice calm island, and Rose Tyler. It didn't seem bad at all. Plus, they were bound to have bananas here, somewhere.

A few minutes later, they found themselves in the hotel lobby, signing in and paying for two connecting rooms.

Rose looked at the woman manning the desk. She had smiled at them nicely, teeth gleaming, and asked if she could help them, but hadn't introduced herself beyond that.

She looked to be in her late 30s, with dark hair and blue eyes. Her daughter, around 14, had come up to them during the exchange. They looked similar; the only difference being the daughter had dark eyes, and a quiet demeanor.

"Enjoy your stay!" the woman told them, smile broad.

The Doctor led Rose off, telling her of how the last hotel he had visited had been infested with life forms pretending to be light fixtures. Neither of them glanced back.

The woman at the desk turned to face her daughter. Her eyes were wide with delight.

"Guests, darling," she said gleefully. "We haven't had guests in _such_ a long time!"

**A/N: And here ends Chapter One. :) Took me long, but I had a perfectionist urge and found jelly stars to stick onto my window. Ahh…**

**Anyway, reviews and constructive criticism would be welcomed because I'm not too sure about what I'm doing. ;) **


	3. Help Overlooked

**A/N: Hah! Got this chapter done despite school… how do you feel now, teachers? ;)**

**Disclaimer: Yep, heard it before, will hear it again. I do not own Doctor Who in any way possible. **

_**Chapter Two**_

She eventually found in him outside, in front of the swimming pool.

"Very impressive stuff," the Doctor commented without turning around to face her. He was sitting on the edge of the hotel pool, dangling his feet in the water.

Rose slipped off her sandals and joined him, water warming her feet. She grinned, thoughts drifting contentedly. "Stuff indeed."

Their rooms, connected by what looked like a closet but was actually a little passage, had been lavishly furnished. Dark wood desks, mirrors with metal engraving on the edges—the beds had been so comfortable she half wanted to sleep already.

They hadn't seen anyone else in the hotel except for staff, but Rose suspected that they were all out enjoying the island.

She looked around. The pool was a blue she was almost sure couldn't be natural, and the gleaming navy titles surrounding them were warm to the touch, relaxing her. The sun was shining and it was quiet.

_(Too quiet?)_ She shook the thought off.

Smiling to herself, Rose slipped her hands in the water, quickly splashing the Doctor.

"Hey!"

She had to muffle a laugh; he wore a deeply insulted look with water dripping down his face, from his ruffled hair to his jaw.

"I'll get you back," he threatened with a grin, gathering water in his hands.

She scrambled hastily back from him, tongue peeking out between her teeth. "Wanna bet?"

* * *

Rose could practically _feel_ all the looks they were gathering as they walked into the hotel—she was positively soaking due to their impromptu pool fight. The clothing stuck to her skin, and she was sure someone from the hotel staff was going to come up to her and tell her to get her bum up to her room.

The Doctor laughed at her openly, grinning widely.

"Oh, sod off."

* * *

Peeling her dripping clothes off, Rose hung them in the bathroom to dry. Changing into jeans and a blue t-shirt she had brought with her to the hotel, she stepped on something that was distinctly not part of the plush carpet.

Leaning down by her bed, she picked up a scrap of plain white paper, no bigger than perhaps her hand. It was blank—but as Rose flipped it over the see the other side, she spotted the message.

In a dark pen—blue, she thought—something was written with a very familiar, rounded hand. She looked closer and—

_Rustle._

She tilted her head; was she hearing things now too?

"Rose!" the Doctor called.

"Comin'!" she yelled back.

Quickly, she slipped the paper into her back pocket. She would read it and show it to him later. She wouldn't forget.

Really, she wouldn't.

* * *

The Doctor considered the things that would make the waiting better. Caxtarids, perhaps—but he wasn't in the mood for metallic red hair and torture. Dragons would be an improvement, he decided. Or Foamsasi; humanoid chameleons would certainly get a reaction.

_Maybe then the line would actually move_, he thought.

An island like this had to have more than one smoothie shop, but as he and Rose waited in line, he was sure it didn't.

His thoughts were a mix of _not even a purple cow would get anyone to move _and _one Mississippi, two Mississippi…_

Eventually, he grumbled, "I'll be over there sitting down," and made to leave the long line.

"Lazy bum!" Rose yelled after him jokingly.

The Doctor was about to answer when the line surged forward to take up his absence, and a crowd of people rushed around him. He ended spitting hair out of his mouth, and struggling to find his way through the mass.

A person pushed hard on his right, and he stumbled, but didn't fall, feeling someone lend their weight to pull him up slightly. The stranger's hand grabbed his own and wrapped the Doctor's fingers around an object he couldn't see.

A wooden park bench beckoned once he had gotten out of the throng and he sat down eagerly, ignoring everyone else, glancing at what he had been given.

Two dream-catchers lay in his hand.

* * *

When Rose returned with the drinks she found him studying his palm intently. When she got closer, she saw he was holding something.

_He hasn't gone completely mad yet then_, she thought with some humor.

"Dream-catchers," he told her, not looking up. The Doctor quickly caught her up on what had happened.

"Can't you leave alone for a moment," she said regretfully, and leaned closer to see.

They were each based on a willow hoop, with a loose net in a seemingly flower shaped design woven in the center. Both hoops were dyed a deep blue, and three strands of tan feathers, interwoven with dark beads, hung below the hoop.

"Used to have one when I was little," she told him, remembering. "I called it a dream snare. S'pposed to catch nightmares and trap them in the net. The good dreams would slide down the feathers to the sleeper, while the bad ones would die in the light of dawn."

She traced the feathers with a finger, the dream-catchers still in his hand. Her touch along with smooth feathers sent tingles through his hand, and he shivered for a moment.

"If they're to catch nightmares," the Doctor wondered, "why would we need them here? It's the island where dreams come true—good dreams—and the island's name holds no meaning that anyone knows of."

"Or have they just forgotten it?" the sentence passed her lips before she was aware of it.

He gave her a cheeky smile. "Fantastic Rose."

She flushed, but continued thinking. Just as she was about to say something, he interrupted the silence that had fallen.

"We have a mysterious benefactor, two dream-catchers most likely meant for us, and an island name that may or may not hold meaning," he organized. "The only thing is: how to they connect?"

And that was something neither of them could piece together in a few minutes.

* * *

"G'night," Rose murmured, peeking into his room. The Doctor was lounging on his bed, spectacles on, reading. She scowled when she saw that—he almost never slept. This would probably be no exception.

"Spidey Time Lord mechanics," he said, glancing up and seeing her grimace.

"Or insomnia," she grumbled, feeling more than a bit silly.

"Oi, cheeky!" he retorted.

About to make another remark; a yawn interrupted Rose. She covered her mouth exasperatedly.

"Go to bed," the Doctor told her, letting his gaze rove concernedly around her. "It's getting late."

"Fine," she mumbled, too tired to protest. She felt almost like she was moving through molasses, her body too exhausted to move properly.

Turning her lights off, she slipped between the smooth hotel sheets. When her head hit the pillow she was too drowsy to fight any longer.

* * *

In the other room, the two dream-catchers lay forgotten on the Doctor's desk. He barely glanced up, never remembering them.

Underneath a mass of rooms, someone laughed freely. It looked like they were going to creep into Rose Tyler's dreams tonight.

**A/N: Hoped you liked this chapter—I had fun writing it. **

**First off though, I know Rose has an accent, and I'm trying a bit to put that in, but I'm not sure if I'm under-doing it, over-doing it, or just… not doing it right. If you have any comments about that, it would helpful.**

**Second… forgot it, dang it. **

**Anyway, reviews would be appreciated and all that jazz. ;) **


End file.
